


Marmoreal

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5162204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>marmoreal: adjective; märˈmôrēəl; made of or likened to marble;<br/>late 18th century: from Latin marmoreus (from marmor ‘marble’) + -al.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marmoreal

**Author's Note:**

> It's Saturday, youngest is asleep, so another two-word day ;)  
> Here is a reading of the Auden poem by Tom Hiddleston:
> 
> As I Walked Out One Evening  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AvL1IjU43I0

Sherlock was sleeping off one of those colds that lasted forever, so John had plenty of time to simply be next to him and watch him sleep. He knew that Sherlock spent hours cataloguing John's sleeping patterns, so he was returning the favour. 

In his current condition, he wasn't quite the normal marmoreal vision that he usually presented to the world, splotches of pink marred his usual alabaster skin; his breathing rattled softly and sometimes erupted into coughing fits. Not quite enough to wake him, but he would roll over and snort. John almost laughed when he recalled the first time he heard him snore.

"You are a snorer."  
"No, I most am certainly not."  
"Yes, yes you are."  
Sherlock sniffed and went back to his experiment, not speaking to John for a day.

"Johhhhn." Sherlock's whimper brought him back to the present.  
"Love? What can I get you?"  
"Can you read to me?"  
"Sure, be right back."  
John dug out the book of Auden poetry  
that Sherlock had given him at Christmas,  
he cleared his throat, curled up next to his love and  
began to read-

"As I walked out one evening,  
Walking down Bristol Street,  
The crowds upon the pavement  
Were fields of harvest wheat...."

John closed the book and kissed Sherlock gently,  
before he turned out the light, falling asleep only to  
giggle to himself as he heard another snore  
escape from his bedmate.


End file.
